Escape from Malton's Streets
by Vesley
Summary: Seven years of destruction sets the ruins of Malton...A journal is found from a dead survivor; can this hold the insights of what really went on in the last several years. You flip open the Journal to find the speckles of blood entitled the kids own name.
1. Chapter 1

Epilogue…_**Seven Years later**_

-Its been several years since the original outbreak...years on the run, for the few who escaped the city, it was already too late. Years of being on the run…this being a few of your stops, _Malton _or what was left of the city_._ Staying alive was the only thing could do; after years of travel; eventually cities and towns began to come together pulling barricades, and armed by armed support. Like yourself; years of travel bodies, infected undead; and mutations of god. Those of cross species had to be watched; you never knew how they would attack / _adapted. _No one is how or to most of anyones knowledge is sure how it spread to get this bad; but like other dispatched teams dispersed in the city. As a scavenger / survivor split from your team searching a local Nero tech. The arched metal entrance an expanding building that stretched out in a ...The experiences from Malton is well known everywhere, as specially the quarantine seven years back, passing through the rooms; you enter a large top floor. You note the large interior of the room; as well as the previous years of bloody crusted on the floor, and a corpse holding something. About few corpse lying strobe across the tiled room; brightly lit by the illuinating open view of the dead city. Noting the previously dead corpse of a dead youth again; you make out a small leather bounded journal something that glimmers so slightly in the light, with a small near by handgun lying in the corpse remaining numbs of fingers. As well as the other tooken care of dead; a small bag with less than useful supplies you retrieve the journal as you carefully approaching the creature, you retrieve a small dairy of sort, as you flip to the earliest recorded dated more than seven years ago.

*_September 29, 2005_

It just me home tonight, mom and dad went out to dinner on the small strip of Malton near the Ample cinema. They insisted I come along; but I gladly rejected the thought of an evening with my parents. Kicking my feet on the sofa, I began to glue my eyes on the television. News reports of attacks in the city and the mayor, as well as his cabinet pledging to uphold the promise of no attacks in our state (disclosed and too smudged to make out). Remembering the annoying ringing of the microwave, I caught sight of my Mom with the Science division team. Here slender stance; and poised chin proud chin shaking the mayors hand. As well as the large mass of the Nero-tech logo embalm in the background, as I vastly raced to the kitchen thinking of the pop'n'corn, I found my self opening the bag noticing the burnt edges of the bag. Picking my way through the crusted pieces, as I rumedged through the edible partials of food.

Back to the living room; I found the subliminal message of the report over, and the news people closing the program. Handling the remote-control, I jumped on the late afternoon channels. With the sudden clatter of the drizzle of a rain afternoon shower pounding against the solid tin-like material of the roof structure. With the signal suddenly lost, I could only curse in disbelief trotting upstairs to the confines of my room. Deciding to try and watch some TV and write a little later tonight before bed...

Its me again; took a shower feel better after a steaming hot shower. Wrapping the towel around my waist, glancing at the en-bold red letters of 7:29. Two things I enjoyed hot showers and alone time in the house when my parents are away, but for a near three-hours. I think I'll call my parents to be sure its only a forty-five minuet drive into Malton. Not too worried this wasnt the first time; the two probably made their way to the bar on there way home, had a few drinks to my assumption. I'll worry about it later...

Its been thirty-minuets; but still nothing on the cell, and moms cell rung in my parents bedroom only a few doors down from my room. To my surprise nearly "jumped right outta my skin" when it rang that sorta mission impossible ring tone. So in all oddly kept the phone next to my bed just in case my mom or dad couldn't get through my calling.

Still nothing; and its going on nine...my parents should have got a call from them by now. Worried sick...the rain has ultimately stopped, except the few ripples of pounding against the tin roof, and I've decided to keep the house phone next to my up-stairs bed. As I try and fight the few heavy yawns of bitter sleep, needed I figured they'd had been kept in the city. (Last parchment pushes the last sentence reading...going t-bed )

*_September 30, 2005_

It was early mourning when, I awoke to the god awful moans in the…A_M_. Still no responds or calls from mom or dad, and something seems odd they would've called or left a message by now. Skimming through the call list in the annoying voice state, "no...new messages." The power blinked around 7 am this morning...had to flip the switches again, and taking a look at the neighborhood homes few looked grim from the sudden move only a month or two ago. The moans at least ceased about eight, going on nine this morning, and the cellar services had begun to go on the fritzes about that time. It was 2 pm in the afternoon; when the sound of gun-fire cased the city all at once, and a explosion shook the neighborhood. As the sound of annoying alarms began to blarr in my neighborhood for the moment.

News crew were on edge during the entire report and refer to the "boom" to be a nearby gas station fire erupted the area, but no footage was shown. Tried my dads cell, and still no responds from either of them. Hating to microwave food, especially left over's from the fridge. It was going on four when the house phone coursed through the kitchen/ eating area of the lower part of the house. It was the registered number of my parent's friend trying to get in touch with them, and stupidly shouted their names hitting the button. Then as I spoke the man roodly hung up on me, as I flipped the bird to him…

The man from my moms work called again and apoligxed for his roodness, he said his name was Jeff, or another and the conversation lasted for a moment. The man encouraged the importance of the call toward my mom and I reluctantly agreed. Hanging it up and slamming the phone, I began to pick at my left over chicken, rice and English peas. Later I could only glance at the sky in the late night sky growing darker, as I watched from the comfort of the kitchen window of leaves spookiedly being shifted a few leaves on the ground. It didn't take long for the street lamps to buzz on, and still no sign of my parents.I hated the odd quietness of the open once community of the twenty or so houses together in a once populated neghiborhood, dwindle slowly to no more than, _five or six. _Like this morning…the moans have begun to grow, as well as the clatter of distance gun-fire in the night. Securing latching the front doors; and latched all the windows, as the uncomfortable chill of the night air sent tremors on my arms.

Oddly; the service of the sate-light oddly went out and I couldn't get it to work on any television in the house. Checking the phone; I found no calls on the cell or messages while I later took another shower, in case of a call(not as long as the one before) Drying my wet-head of hair; I decided to leave my dirty clothes on in odd suspension of an odd feeling. Grabbing the run away bag from under my bed the one-strapped army bag propping the bag of the nightstand. Un-clipping the phone from my belt laying it on the window seal, but trying to fall asleep was almost impossible. This time not fighting sleep...I began to drift to sleep.

*_October 1, 2005_

I hardly slept a wink...maybe caught a few winks asleep around four or five thanks to the god awful moans. From the moaning and gunfire drawing, that seemed like it was drawing closer to my neighborhood. With all the noise; had finally quietly die down, I nearly slept almost till almost a maybe around 8 or so in the morning. The power was out when I awoke again this morning, but didn't stay out too long about an hour or so. As usual _Pop`tarts_ for breakfast, with a glass of milk, which seemed to be one day till expiring date even though I drank about half before pouring it out in the sink. Still no calls on either the house phone or cell, and my nerves are on edge. During the entire morning, I left a message on dad's cell, but still nothing from either of them.

About another hour past...before I felt the eeriness of the house and the quietness. Searching the house; I found the comfort of the bag prompt in the corner and the fire-ax next to it form my dads as chief of the local volunteer fire department, more of a souvenir. My thoughts still worrying about my parents night out to lead to them not showing up for two days, yet oddly this wasn't them. All my concentration on my moms cell, waiting for my mom's mission impossible ring tone. All I wanted was that stupid ring tone to ring, and it'd be my parents saying everything was fine…_but _as usual nothing. All my train of thought was the that slender silver phone.

More than half-an hour passed; staring helplessly at the stupid cellar phone of my moms, all attention on that phone, waiting for anyone to call. With the cable services out...absolutely no television from any other room in the house. Then a call on the house phone nearly sent me into a panic...answering the cordless phone to find the same person, Jeff or another on the other end. Still the same message to get in touch with my mom. This time I member the poking question; I questioned from my end over the phone, "_what's._..going on?" "_**Nothing**_..."he stammered irritably over the phone assuring me if I hear from to get in touch with him. When I redialed the number back…all I could get was a busy signal on the other line. SO in defeat I only hung up the phone in defeat and began to turn to my thoughts.

I felt the corners of my mind begging to collapse all my train of thoughts on my parents, going over variously scenarios of the "what-ifs" I really by now thought something to be wrong, but food was starting to dwindle having more than maybe a couple of days to last. Supplies…wasn't the only thing to think of; school was a joke, I remembered I'd have to get a excuse from my several absentees' doctors note or another…

*_October 2, 2005_

It had been a long night...no time to write any more in my journal. Found a battery radio still in good use, and I got the few signals while eating this morning. To my surprise,...I nearly choked on my cold cereal when I found the whole tri-area had been on lock down and all routs as well as transportation from the city ended yesterday afternoon. I couldn't think my parents leave without me nor could they? That was the question that buzzed my mind; yes, my parents and I had our problems, but not enough to completely ditch me altogether. With the list of dead growing by the minuet, as well as the previously reported attacks were growing in expediential numbers closer.

Lost in thought...possibilities of my parents being on the list of possibly dead on file, as I hung to the small radio word for word. One other thing to report teams were being brought into the city, known as **CDF **_short for Creedy Defense Force_ to control the mass panic. Few people on the shows dis-proved the team being too late. Some being in favor argued with the varicose hosts, saying it was better than doin nothing. But luckily the attacks haven't reached my area yet, but the moans have begun to once again start, and with it from lac of sleep cant focus.

I chose not to write...till later in the afternoon. Its about mid-afternoon more around five or so. *More bad news...foods virtually gone; and the power refuse to stay on all the time lasting more than a hour or two tops, and going off. Thinking of venturing into the city crossed my mind, but I disclosed it. Even though radio reports abide by doing anything of the sort, that staying in doors was the answer, _right…_ With it reports on the soldiers sent in are having heavy losses, but holding what insane citizens back. The radio has played non-stop, of reports and updates deeper into the city. As well as special medical operatives were bring into the city. Tried to get online…but no such luck; and hadn't had a signal traced on the logs for several days.

The moans were starting to grow much louder; even in a small community a few muiets into the city to draw even closer. Deciding to plan my leave tomorrow; not before contemplating the possible occurrence choice of my parent's safety and not being able to reach me. As well as the power officially not coming on anymore, but luckily the gas-top stove can cook the little food for tomorrow's breakfast. Leaving the doors shut would provide some chill to the remaining food and freezer. The house is dark, cold and empty, as I write under the light of a few candles in my bedrooms.

Deciding in case something was to happen or my parents coming to find me, I'm writing a note...taking moms cell left it simple and short and sweet on the auto-men furniture near the front door. With the pack over my shoulder, the fire-ax in the other I prepared for my embark in the city...


	2. Chapter 2

*_October 3, 2005_

I made it to the city...deeper into Malton now. I found the streets are cluttered, and the rumble of the underground streets scares me still. The smell of smoke of the ghost town of the once live city, gone...(looking at the page of the last sentence, you get the feeling as if he was in a hurry, and the entry continues on a sudden note)gotta go I think I can make out some people, an officer maybe I'll ask him whats going on. Also I think; I'm being followed from the warehouse, I shortly stayed clipping the cell-phone to my side, as I headed out the door.

*_October 3, 2005_

The officer appeared to be no help; the man was holding his arm and racing in the opposite direction, too fast for me to keep up. Then cutting fastly over the barricaded wall; he furiously climbed over a later and disappeared from sight. Before I knew I began to wander aimlessly through the horried empty streets further into the unknown of the city. The streets painted a worsening picture continuing further into the city. More overturned cars burnt to a crisp, along with burning buildings and some walls covered in bullet holes or blood smears. Even though no one was there...or a body to match those events. I remember turning away...finding anywhere else to be far from this or any other event. The reports on the radio at home didn't lie; the mass-choas the eerier quiet city of _Malton _basically dead. Taking a moment to rest behind a pile of cars; I'm writing here and there as I go through the streets.

Further into the city; the same moans as before at home have increased than ever before, but I needed to find shelter for the night so whatever the heck was moaning like that wouldn't find me. As I wandered further through the streets a familiar rehabilitation clinic caught my eye. White one storie building; a sorta safe house, some people came to our school talked about. It would do for the night; I'd have to see if any body was home or find me something to eat for starters. I was beginning to feel the side-effect of not eating. As I approached the white building; I made my way through the double-reinforced glass doors to the empty room. The white walls and bear rooms; a couple of books and papers from the last few days was all to be seen. On the bad note…just as I walked into the building the power shut off, before coming on later.

Taking a look around; I found a spare room, barely furnished with a single cot and a desk, along with a corner bookshelf. Throwing my bag on the cot; I gathered a few supplies from the staff room / kitchen area. Right before locking the place down; I managed to look at my phone to find no messages not even from that weird _Jeff co-worker _of moms. I decided to eat what was _Dona's _Lunch labeled in large bold ball-point pen. I later found no workers in the entire building; and the signal on the phones were here and there to the point of turning it off and charging it for the night, after the power came straight on. 

*_October 4, 2005 _

Its gonna get tough writing; even though I really didn't have a clue why I was writing in the first, probably for comfort. So leaving this morning; un-plugging the phone; and unlocking the front entrance, I felt I had a lesser sleep. Eating what little of yesterdays dinner, I luckily saved to eat, while reading a previously dated news paper about the _walking dead. _That the Creedy Defenses Force (CDF); was pulling back to base, along with the medical teams from a few days ago. Throwing the paper in dis-belief, I un-plugged the charger snagging a bottle of aspirin into my bag and medical tin-kit, I decided to head onward. For a laugh; if Donna was still alive and wanted luch, I left her a not in the same pen telling her sorry bout lunch. That was my sense of humor for the day; but coming out of the building I noted the large medical building plaza, with an enormous clock tower, and parking deck. So I decided to ignore papers about the major places to avoid, hospitals being number two, and Police stations number one; I decided to scope it out.

Before leaving I found the attacks were far worse than the radio descriptions. Blockades from the evacuation either fallen over by horse shaws, written in _police line, caught ion's. _I found the bodies of dead were mounting; and thrown across the place, few armed personnel scavedged by as the radio and papers called, "_Vigilantes._" With the Martial law declared for _Malton's lock-down_ as of yesterday, and internet coming in and out of the city. To the accounts in the paper the recently departed were suddenly showing up attacking the living..

It was far more difficult task than planned, but I reached the hospital grounds to only turn back from the swarm of eight undead in the area front. The papers were right; or they were in serious pain from one or two missing a arm or leg. Luckily none of them spotted me; dashing through the empty park, I would've been mauled before I knew it. Seemingly I was better off armed of course fire-axe in hand. Wasn't only a weapon, but a tool getting onto various lower level rooftops, by bypass bumper to bumper traffic it wasn't easy but eventually I found comfort getting to a less infested area of town, that appeared quiet. As the sight of the city grew dark I knew I better found shelter before night fall.

Ok...found my way into a well off area of a well secured bar maybe a three-story building, but oddly vacant. However, for the old building...in good condition, the doors were left ajar and the first floors clean of those things and a good block and a half from that horde. I'll have to check the rest of the Mike's Pub out, from the wood sign outside. May even celebrate w/ something to eat, I hadn't thought how much starved I am since leaving home a day and a 1/2 ago and still no word from either of my parents. Oddly, the same guy Jeff left a strange text message when I went to asleep yesterday night, just exhausted.

So far...the attic and the mid-upper floor are clear, but bare. With it I scored a pair of binoculars from the upper balcony and got a view of the growing mass at the hospital. Tried to call my parents while I was on the roof the signal keeps bouncing off and on in the entire area. Doing a full sweep; I ensured all windows and non-used doors on the other part of the upper and mid-level floor and bottom entrance, now all is left is the basement. I always hatted the basement...especially in those horror movies... (theres more but someone has crossed out the rest of the sentence w/ permanent marker)

Did a sweep of the basement...wasn't too bad just a regular cellar full of wine and beer crates and dusty kegs. The areas cool, but there's no power I'll have to switch the fuses in the pub if I can find the separate grids on each level. Venturing deeper into the basement, I found an old cross-communications radio, but I could not get it to function; I'll need some tools and a manual to get this thing running again to transmit messages, but fooling w/ it. I found it can pick up loads of signals on a set of fine tuners. Eventually I found the un-used fuses; and replacing them kicked on the rest of the grid of the entire building. Nothing of any use so far besides the radio, and the power, water and etc is still running as well as an old generator in the back to kick on now.

Found some beans in a can; but the supply is cut to probably four to two days of food if I make it last, not to mention the food I snagged at the clinic as well as the aspirin bottle. And I'm dwindled down to two sodas from the house, but I decided against them to savor them for later.

*_ October 5, 2005_

Didn't sleep very well last night, even though I went to bed around nine 'o clock or so. The moans from the various nights and the sound of gunfire, were growing steadily worse. I hardly slept a wink, I miss the comfort of my own bed. As I made my way to the lower levels from the upper room. Sounds of the door; began to rattle taking the grip of the wood-polished fire-ax I found the doors stop, as the sound of keys could be heard gangling. With the sounds of the lock loosening...I thought I might have been safe in the corner making a dash for the one of the curved arches gripping the ax tightly to my chest.

To my surprises the door opened slowly...as a man probably in his late forties early fifties stepped out. Slightly dark complicated quality to the man, with little grey to the sides of his head of hair, dressed in military gray-blue design and a dark red t-shirt showing his well built figure. Entering the room; I hid myself as the man locked the double door behind him. Noting his steady footing to the old wood floor; the man entered the room further down the line, till he caught sight of my bag, and my one slung shoulder bag on the counter. Retrieving his handgun; the older man exclaimed the leather folding revealing my name and address, so if it was lost to return it to me. As I reluctantly noted to kick my own ass later, if I was still alive that was, till the man grasped the tag peering around the room; and putting his gun away, with a grin laughed softly to himself.

Remembering loosening the grip to my axe; I found myself venturing from the corner of the room, with him saying lightly, "its been days since I've seen someone still alive in the city." confused the tall short-dark headed military style trimmed man ventured to my side in a warm greeting, "how long have you've been here?" "well...spent the night here in the upper bedroom, I thought..." before he could finish the man's welcoming smile slowly faded with him remarking, "ya...but you do what you have to survive, and the names Lt. Maxwell, but you can call me Max for short." It was that warm welcome in his eyes to see someone...anyone for that fact alive in these grim days, taking his extended hand I shook it. Muttering slightly in a dry tongue, I responded awkwardly in his direction, "Oh! The names Wes; but from peeking at my bag you already know that." We both laughed then...

As the rest of the day went on...Max lead me up stairs to the other smaller bedroom, that was earlier locked. Max had found the skeleton key when he found himself stranded here. The room was fine, and had a furnished desk and comfortable bed. The view of the city was nice on the third floor and from Max's perspective those...things could not climb yet, so it was safe to leave the windows open.

Later the two of us chatted in the room; explaining the cities situation so far; after the whole attack feasquo. That later he found himself here in the pub only a few days before, I even entered the city. With it Lt. Maxwell exclaimed the quartering from the rest of the world by blocking the entire tri-area after the few acceptable few evacuated three days ago. With it the cooperation of Nero corporation, and their research and development was involved with the entire process, but most was speculation from the last person he'd seen. Even though I have decided right off the bat not to mention my mom working as the head researcher just yet. Not knowing how he'd take it, or have a senile moment; and I thought that night could my mom and her team, especially Jeff that kept calling was involved with _Malton's destruction_, "_why, mom_?" Was the only question I asked myself over and over again.

*_October 6, 2005_

I slept better knowing Max was here...and the tossing and turning all night wasn't as bad. I'd chosen to leave the window shut from now on cause the moaning from the masses of noise stirred my thoughts. The food was scares but Max said it was all right for the time being...he'd said more was in the basement stored safely away from scavengers who were looting the area. Max also explained to prop a near by 2 '4 piece of lumber along the hinges when he was gone, and the dead would eventually go on their way, but Max also verified the need for no movement while their around, when they would attract others in near by areas to get to us.

Max brought the last crate of food from the basement...mostly canned stuff though. I didn't mind though, foods-food. Maxwell exclaimed we should be good for the next three days, but eventually we'll have to scavenge for some. I was getting to know Lt. Maxwell very well; sorta like an over protective uncle of sort. We laughed, we ate and Max even since decided the end was here to let me try any beverage of ale of my choice tonight at supper. Tried the cell...when Max wasn't around of course, I couldn't find a signal, but that Jeff guy kept leaving text messages and other voice mails, even though I couldn't answer them till I found a clear signal.

Supper was great...tuna and beans; but I'd regret it later after supper. I chose to try some Champaign instead, something not as strong in case of something to go wrong. In addition,...I'd couldn't tell what was what-all too fancy for my back water taste. Then the power began to flicker like at my house; but Maxwell assured nothing to worry reminding me of the back-up generator connected to the facility had plenty of fuel. The two of us sat in the dark for thirty-minuets before it came on again. Much longer than it did at the house; to actually come on, but it did stay on for the rest of the night right before I decided to call it a night.

* _October 7, 2005_

Maxwell wasn't around when I got up this morning, so I decided to give a quick look for him. Wasn't on the first or second floors, tried the basement so I began my climb to the roof. Opening the door to the large concrete top of the large brick structure, there stood Maxwell gazing through his binoculars tuned to the city toward the hospital. "Maxwell..."I stammered softly in his direction before noticing my presents, turning to meet me. "Oh! I see your up..." "ya," I interjected in his direction. With the two of us on the roof top; Lt. Maxwell's binoculars in hand gestured them to me. Taking the militarized style binoculars; I found the need to look in the direction of the hospital; saying confusedly, "what'd you see?" Then before he could say anything...I knew what he was gazing at....both the growing number of dead almost doubled since the last encounter, and a group of people in the building over flicking the lights in some of code.

"Its mores code, people that buildings are trapped by the swarm;" Maxwell whispered softly in my direction, while continuing once more, "their saying they need our help or any for that matter, " Knowing as Maxwell exclaimed last night he had listed to help in the city's cries. With years of Special Forces training form long ago, and guessing mores code was second language to him. "You got a plan, Lt." I began to say once more in his direction, "we've gotta help them, but how?" I remember watching Maxwell on that cheap lawn chair, as I decided to take another gaze through the binoculars. It the upper floor of the hospital room a woman, that appeared to be a doctor in a white coat was flicking the lights on and off. We both locked glances; I could tell she was in trouble through the hordes of endless undead.

So late at night...when we were eating, Maxwell decided to finally speak up. "Wes...look, I want you to stay here and watch the base till I get back, while I try and do something about those people," Maxwell chorused under his breath. Dropping the fork in my plate; making my way around the bar filling my glass with more red wine, I didn't know if it was the wine talking or my enrage to say something when I responded, "No! I'm coming with you, we're in this together know Max."With a sigh and a passing glance, Lt. Maxwell muffled under his breath, "No! If anything were to happen to you, I wouldn't know..." Maxwell brief pause his last comment and continued to chow down as the lights began to flicker softly.

It was before going to bed...when Maxwell followed me up, saying concernedly "look...its not that I don't think you can't handle yourself, but I don't want another life lost on my behalf." I didn't know what he meant; but I felt the honest sad truth purse from his mouth, with it began honestly as Max made his way upstairs. "Its just if...something happened, I don't wanna be alone again." This time I tightened my fists trying not to show emotion, while contempt like manner made his way beside me saying once more, "look..its just, I feel we're in this together." Lt. Maxwell with a reluctant sight; bega to responded stiffly in my direction, " if that's how your truly feel we'll go early tomorrow morning, that is if your up in time."

I knowingly knew I couldn't get in the way of the mission tomorrow. Clenching the fire-ax tightly; sitting their on the bed...I knew we had to somehow help those people and too ensure Max's safety and mine. Its been days since I've been in the city and from Maxwell's perspective... I was a lucky person not to encounter more than what I'd seen. Later that night; a million questions boggled through my mind; about my mom and the rest of the research team, as well as the lock-down in the entire city. As I couldn't sleep; so searching the room I managed to find a plastic ring of six 357 magnum shells, slightly hollowed out in the end. As well as a thigh hoister for the weapon too, and a operating manual.

It didn't take long for me to nearly go over a chapter or so of the book, before I went to sleep. I tiredly took the ring of shells on the small wooden night stand, and opening the draws, I put the book inside. It didn't take longer now…_for the sound of Maxwell's _snoring to slightly wake me up and eventually went to sleep waiting for the morning to come.


	3. Chapter 3

*_October 8, 2005_

This morning I found Maxwell standing over my bed, as his fingers were stretched over his lips he motioned for me to follow him up to the balcony. Quietly the two of us made our way to the roof; w/ Max holing the door open for me. As the two of us squatted next to the siding; I then seen what Maxwell warned me about a few days ago...once the streets somewhat bare, now about dozens stood on our corner of the street and clear view of the dozens gathered around the large hospital building. Taking the binoculars; focusing the view from the early lights glare, I watched as those creeps clawed, and scratched at the boarded up barricades or junk. "We really need to do something," I quietly pointed out. "Yes! But lets wait a little longer, we're kind of surrounded...kid," Maxwell pointed out once more.

Only four wandered our direction this morning; form that group, but Maxwell had already blasted a couple rounds in each crazed figures. Maxwell was a good shot too, but when I mentioned taking more out was outta the question saying, "it'd be an wast of time." So the two of us just watched...for about half-an hour later the two of us decided to maintain the perimeter. WHen I asked for a handgun...Lt. Maxwell said it was out of the question, something about kids to minors or another.

Checking the upstairs...notheing but the noises of the supposed undead moans; are un-easily heard even more, but Lt. Maxwell told me this would happen. With less undead or another and the living slowly dying will eventually get much worse. Securing the lock today; I found a cam-corder a newer compact one. WIth it fully charge battery; once those things were tooken care of Max gave the ok, and we went down stairs. Going to my room; I found the shells and stuffed them into my pocket.

Eventually it was later that afternoon that, I showed the slip to Lt. Maxwell and said hardly notheing. He told me to hold onto it; and that we'd probably need as much as we needed for our journy to the hospital. And at dinner Lt. Maxwell; gave me a gift a 357-stainless steel magnumn, as a present for our trip to resuce mission to see what we could do to assist the poeple in the hosptal nearly a couple blocks over.

I couldn't sleep last night...I dreamt of my parents were being mauled by some of those freaks. I was restless for the rest of the night, all I wanted to do was wake up in my bed, but like Lt. Maxwell's comment about the comfort of the firearm at dinner, about them being your secant best-friend, he was undoubtfully right about that comforting feeling. So I decided to write in case I didn't make it; I had a good life and great parents even if they didn't get along, so I'm gonna take the camera I found with me and get some decant shots or footage, cause I might not be able to write any more for a while.

***(Gazing into the journal...a small sim-card slips out, while digging out the slightly beat-up camcorder from the bag, whiel inseting the card inside. You note the image being fuzzy...but the image of a kid, long with an older fimilar gentalmen on the tiny screen, while briefly pausing it you countinue reading the partchment before watching it of his morning...)***

*_October 9, 2005_

I've decided to write some of my accounts before the two of us head over on this rescue mission. When I woke up this morning Maxwell...handed me a uniform a odd insignia like Maxwell's shirt sleeve, but it strikes me odd about his place here, and his erdge to rescue mission.

The uniform felt odd...but somewhat cool the black pants; utility belt w/ hoister for my magnum, and extra shells and miltary boots and vest. Lt. Maxwell even found a flask jacket for me to wear, its kinda heavy, but well worth it. So comming down the stairs; the sounds of my boots on the floor boards, and Maxwell saying I looked great.

After breakfast; and Lt. Maxwell said for me to leave my journal and other stuff here, but I decided to sneak my camera and attachment to my shoulder strap. Maxwell advised against it; but helped me set it up and we decided to head out in about an hour. SO I spent the hour remanising my life...my parents and more. I've decided to ask anyone alive was alive, I'd they seen or heard from my parents.

***{Taking the chip from the journal; you find a nearby computer in the nerotech building and insert the slim chip, as the visual shots of a building view, as the camera wobbles into shots of an man that appears to be Maxwell, as you glue yourself to the shot of the camrea you countinue to watch...}****

****{As the camera zooms into view...shots of doors opening to the streets as the sight of Maxwell can be seen as the camera jogs in and out place a voice of the leading man begins, semi-auto matic assault riffle drawn making their way down the street littered with countless debris. "Wes...whatever happens, stay close and make your shots count." "Alright," the sound of a younger voice acknowledges toward the man.}****

****{Two figures emerge from the corner of the streets moving kind of sluggish and arms learched out, with pale pasty skin. Moaning un-controllably the two survivors direction....As older gentlemen steps close enough, took aim taking both targets out, with no sweat. Soon the image breaks, (guessing the age of the camera, and years of abusive climates exposed damaged the boards, switching to a further scene, deeper into the city}****

--The gruff miltary mans face almost close to camera; you note the darkened area of the scene that appears to be a parking deck, as little light appears to travel on very few cars, with th the sound of heavy panting could be heard from both survivors. Slight smears of blood; and sounds of unloading and loading comming from off camera shot. As the image slightly shakes, the youth begins, "you, ah! thing they saw us." "We're alright for now; I wasnt exspecting that many in under almost two hours, its worser than I imagien." As you note the slight rise of wind blowing frantically across the concrete lot, as the un-settling moans of the undead travel.

--Taking their move; both Lt. Maxwell and Wesley McCall; make their way through the parking ramp toward. (Zoom-ins of the dozens of undead can be seen, as the zoom retracts, as the older man ushers the kid on to follow him) Lt. Maxwell's voices carries onward, "Wes...come on, elevators on this floor." As the man could be seen repeatly pushing the button; the man quickly asks in Wes' direction,"how you lookin on ammo?" With a reluctent metal establish sigh; begins negitivly, "three or four..." The camera gets the shot of the elevator; the flashing negitive light of the elevator, as Lt. Maxwell stammered softly, "come one, work already."

--Then with a stroke of luck...camera zooms on the flashing light; and to their luck it goes green and continues to drop to their parking deck level. As the two cheer in astonished reliefs; with the elevator doors opening up to a bloody mess, as the kid's camera un-easily shook from the gory scene. Backing away...Lt. Maxwell holding the elevator shaft doors, while saying encouradgly, "come on...you made it this far, don't give up now." Soon you hear Wesley is muttering, "alright, then."

****{With the doors shut...the soft trimmer of slight dings at the shaft reaches each level can be heard, as the soft patter of breaths can be heard...}****

--With the doors open; the darkness of the halls fill the first level, as the camera enters the third floor. Turning to meet the door; the shaft slowly is shut, as the sounds of their weapons are heard. Approaching a nearby patient waiting level the applaulstry stained in blood, you make out the three bodies sprawled lifeless in the rows of chairs. Coming closer; Lt. Maxwell and Wesley approach the bodies, as the cameras stagger like zooms on the bullet hole wounds. As the sight the older gruff Lt. Max is seen digging into the pockets of a cop; he interrupted by the kid's voice off camera in a soft roused whisper, "what are you doing, thats..." Then before he can finish; Lt. Maxwell interrupts him in a cool responds, "in a means of survival, their are no rules of customs of respect, you do what you have too."

--Then the scene is interrupted by a near by banging coming way-off camera. As Wesley's voice cuts in curiously, "what was that," "It appears a few of them are on this level." "Guess we'll have to be careful," His voice cuts into a quick responds toward Lt. Maxwell. As the two began traveling off, the Max hands something to the kid, but cant see it as Lt. Max begins, "here...a few bullets, might help you." The camera is shortly cut off, but flicks to life.

****{Scene cuts short and blurs out, and zooms into a new area. A large white painted bars that separated the lower level of the secant and first floor off) As the shot of a enclosed stairwells can be seen, as Wesley cuts into cue, "Looks like were not going down," "Or their getting into the upper floors," Lt. Maxwell retorts in his direction as a slight smile is passed. (Noting the camera shot of the undead creature on the lower stairs of the lower level are zoomed in, their skin and features distorted and reaching to grab anyone who comes near.) Their moans carried; as the two of them make their way further down the corridor, their boots squeaking as they both go.}****

-It didnt take them long to make their way into a cafeteria eating area. As the sight of three staggering figures are seen, Lt. Maxwell mounts his assault riffle as doing so fires head shots, as the figures sprawled onto the mist of the cafeteria floor in a spasm type movement toward us. Both Maxwell and Wesley McCall hurriedly made their way across the wide area. The tables neatly aligned; and open maybe one or two missing a plastered seats are neatly aligned in a row. Maybe one or two personal belongings could be seen, as they began to pass the body they make their way onto a low inclined ramp as they continued to press onward down another dark corridor...(as the camera fuzzes out the men were apparently gonna say something the only detectable thing you catch was)..."Max, behind in front of you."

****{Camera...cuts back onward; as the sprawl date reads 8/8/05 {12:13})As the base motion of complete snow is feed through the tiny monitor; you slightly slap the side of it, and the image comes on a little after the original feed...}****

--"That was a close one, kid, and thanks!" Lt. Maxwell exclaimed gladly in Wes' direction; as Maxwell slightly kicked the undeniable zombie, with long brown hair, and white stained wool sweater, as the two made their way down the hall, with Max saying once more, "We need to make our way to the fifth or sixth floor." Taking another sharp turn the camera, tilts swaying lightly, as a sudden burst of natural solar light filled the room from of large windows. Coming closer Maxwell stops, then Wesley McCall, begins to say something, but its muted out, as they speak and the camera jerks in the direction of a nearby lobby

****{Camera is then zoomed to a front appeal of the undead mass, their features and appeal worse than before, as the mutilated mob of undead pursue their way into the hospital entrance glass}****

-"We need to hurry..." Lt. Maxwell then exclaimed; as did Wesley's voice cutting in agreeing manor, "just thinking the same thing." Taking their leave from the side; the angle of camera is pointed and directed down the hall separating two wings, as Maxwell estimates knowingly, "This way...much faster." Without response; the kid follows don't the emergency ward; the sounds of chilling moans, as the undead beat on the doors, as well as the un-ghastly moans begin to echo as they pass. "Dont look back...just keep going," Lt. Maxwell exclaims in a hurried tone. As the two hurry further down the emergency ward, and out of the medical wards, and into spralled nearby waiting rooms, appearing of trauma and looked too victims. Gurneys filled the wing, with blood stained sheets, as well as medical equipment, and employees filled the floors and bodies token care off, and one or two strapped too tightly in the gurney to reach after us.

-Viewing the next image; the camera fads into black & white; as Lt. Maxwell are seen with the blur of the open windows and intense bright light. Immense of people lye motionless on the floor, as two of them sprawled from off the floor, then another two, like in the games. As the sounds fads in and outgun shots are being fired; as a few zombies not limp, but sprint into their direction. With each one took out, both men ignored the others behind, with it clamped the doors shut, and grabbing a chain and pad-lock, secured this section, as the camera focused on the undead nurse and doctors, along with one or two patients trying to get in. Loading the weapons; Lt. Maxwell, motioned for Wesley McCall to come along, with it make their way into a spread out corridor...

-Slowly the views of both survivors are seen through the brightly polished mirrors on the wall; as the sounds of heavy steps approaching their directions is heard off camera. As the shot is swooped around view; both survivors freeze a dozen armed men in riot uniform could be seen down the lit hall. Weapons' pointed their direction as one soldier begins loudly muffled through the visor helmet "drop your weapons..." "Do as they say...Wes," is softly spoken as the two of them lift their arms, just managing to block the shoulder view for the moment. As the soldier makes his move, both survivors immediately drop their weapons, as the camera catches the heavy drop of the firearms off camera view...

-Then as the soldier is seen; the rest of the group is making their move, and the man from before approaches the kid. Noting the camera on his shoulder, as he curiously approaches the device, taking the compact device and flipping it on the two survivors, while saying sarcastically, "whatta we have here, boyz." A video camera; this isn't on our list, but we'll take the rest of your supplies; as the man whistles in astonishment saying once more, "guess we missed these two making our sweep for supplies, ay! gang." Video feed is slightly snowy as the sound is in effect, while the silolets can be seen of the swarm of armed men, and the other of the men saying once more, "we'll take these..." As a boot then blocks the visual shot; the whole feed turns off completely as the chorus of laughter erupts after a shot is sounded off.

--When the feed suddenly continues, probably an hour or so later, the Teenager is badly bruised, and leaned against the wall, and the older man lying on the floor lifeless. Cradling himself; Wesley is then seen on and off the wall again, with the few scavengers make their way out of the hall, yelling and carrying on, only a few are seen tormenting the kid. Then you watch as the content of the large mans force picks up the kid by the jaw; and further more speaks before forcefully throwing him to the hard floor, "its nice chatting with ya, thanks for the gifts." The impact of the drop; the man slowly stoops toward the kid and picks up the reaming supplies off the striped man, a handgun saying evily, "we'll leave you to be worm bait for the corpse, while we make a clean break." As the soldier walks off shot; Wesley trembles slightly at the man, as he races to join his fellows, accidently clearing the shot by kicking it.

--Blood covered bruises; the deceased survivor trembles slowly as the soldiers steppes finally disappear, and Wesley McCall begin to cries in agony. As he manages to prop against the wall; the as the stream of blood streaks slowly down his arm, and uniform almost gone all but his pants. As he flips over the lifeless corpse of Lt. Maxwell, the kid stoops weakly as he slowly lowers his hands over his eyes, and you note the respect and connection of the men, as he closes his eyes and mummers a prayer and finishes a slow shaky catholic sign.

--Only the feet of the Wesley are suddenly shown, as he slowly walks away from his friend then are spotted as he begins to up the camera up. In addition, points it to his bruised battered face, his eye slightly shut, and looks away in tears and shuts the feed off.

****(The feed ends altogether in snow....as the kid mummers revenge for his friend. Turning off the camera feed, you flip open the journal once more, as you find the nearest recorded date of a short account of October 11, 2005....)****

*October 11, 2005

Its been three days...since finding my way through the empty hospital and racing by roof top back to the ransacked pub, but since the scavengers ramsacked the place, and killed Lt. Maxwell and let me live thinking my injures would evetaully sucume me. They were right to a point...but till I found the needed supplies and data Lt. Maxwell had wanted supposedly, yet it struck me odd fooling with the device of Nero Tech. COrperation and Creedy Defence Force. Like wise it took me those few days to heal up, get back to the pub (by roof tops), and barricade the place.

I'm gonna take a breather; and gather my rest and countinue my work securing the place once again. Thanks to those goones; its probably gonna take a while to hold the place on my own now, and worse someone stopped by to ransack the place, more likely those goones. Taking myself back to bed...


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry its been a really long while, been busy…and had a serious case of writers block for this story. But thanks to one of my few good friends on here, Shadowtechmaster go check him out, his works really good. But anyways

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_The few pages of automatically recorded days are blank, all but one of a smeared blood print, as the nearest date recorded is placed at October 14, 2005-October 17, 2005. Taking another sweep of the aired room you wonder, "__**What really went on in this place?**__" As shifting the position of the chair, you take note of the breeze of the elevation blows a few more parchments of paper across the ground, with the Nero Tech. campaign, "guarantee for a better tomorrow written on the bottom." Tossing them aside; you flip to the Journal entries and continue reading more._

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October 14, 2005

I have taken the last few days to well prepare myself; I'm down the emergency rations stashed in, _or what was Lt. Maxwell's room. _He was saving it for when we got back…the hospital was in ruins, and taken over by those, _things now. _Only good thing to note is the gas for the generator is in good supply, those goons didn't know where to look. Finding some clothes close to my size any way; it appeared the bar tender had a grandson, whom was going to give the clothes to him in the Holiday months. Sliding on those clean _new _pair of designer jeans; grey muscle shirt; and Nikkei's, along with some fresh socks. _Geez…_I missed the smell of clean clothes, it'd been days since I had some, used too my parents…(_you note the parchment is, of the rest of the sentence is erased, but make out the following, _) I never knew how much I appreciated my moms daily routine now. 

The building routine inspections were simple; locks on all windows and doors, even to the fire escape that neighbors the next building over was to be locked. Even though going to out there, the ladder both the street, and the pub neighboring the old apartment complex was a leap, it serves as an escape route. Likewise; I'd begun to have my fill of red wine, it was better than nothing, after those goons took my supplies, including my bag all I had to show for it was my camera, and a spare magazine I managed to pull out my pants before discarding them to the waste bin. It was sitting at the table late in the evening; that data disc, when the radio transmission receiver buzz from the open down stairs cellar could be heard. Membering I hurried down the stairs; _zeds ears being sharp, _I managed to put the headset on, as an operates voice came on. _Fuzzy at a bit, in the beginning, but _perceived as saying, "Hello! _Need immediate, *static* assistance _Creedy Defence Force Channel station four, third sector, located in downtown cinema complex. "Knowing the layout of the city, like I did, it didn't seem but a few blocks, but my supplies weren't going to last, besides this being the only station to actually work since I got here.

It was digging into the last can of food; when I had to do something, so deciding I couldn't stay here much longer, tucking the disc in my front pocket. Securing the doors once again; I took it upon myself to make my way into the small cramped upstairs washrooms, when I membered hearing something knock over in the women's restrooms. Grabbing the baseball bat from the corner of the hall; I found my legs shaky as I turned the knob, not before placing my ear on the knob. Only silence; slowly the door came open, with it I entered the small restroom. Surprisingly clean; and had two stalls and two vanity sinks. It was lurking in the restroom was a woman in a gown that sent shivers down my spin, as I began, "Miss, you ok." It was then; she only turned her head creepily my way, when I noticed her one side of her face was missing coming my direction. She looked like she hadn't seen sun from her completion, slightly twirling the handle of the bat in my hand, I found the balance swinging the metal ball bat in her face, as I found the force swing to knock her a few ways back. It was then; she went face first into the medicine cabinet, as shards of glass painfully could be seen sticking outta her face as she rose up from the bathroom floor.

It was then; I wasted no time taking a few more blows with the bat until she didn't move. By the time I was through, the bathroom was a mess with it, I had to dispose of the body. As _Lt. Max _had explained, "_Bodies attract them, including fresh blood…with it like animals to the slaughter._" It was then; I found the rug in the hall, wrapped her inside it, as I drug her body to the balcony ledge, and dropped her from the side of the back building. As in that moment, I watched as the body slowly descended into the garbage disposal below. I felt to say a few words, but decided against it. Therefore, taking the key in my pocket, I journeyed to the brawl of the women's room. In addition, using fresh towels from the nearby linen closet began to clean up the mess.

October 15, 2005

The nights are longer and unusually quiet with out, Lt. Maxwell's slight snoring but…the moans. Those were the worst; _it reminded me of my home, _and what become of it. As was my parents. With it; no messages or calls, luckily I had stashed the phone in a loose floorboard in the small bedroom of the third floor. My life, as had been went on as usual, but I missed the company of someone else. And with my food supplies furtheringly dwindling to not much. A can of beans & cocktails; and or fruit salad, and etc. Water was still running from the tap, but…I'd managed to secure jugs full, not to mention the bottles I found in the storage room on top some crates just gathering dust.

It was eating breakfast; alone, in the dark by choice as the only light was the faint street light on from outside, as it flickered on and off from the sun rising into _another hell whole city. _I'd tried the phone a few minuets ago, but like before or been a _day and half ago, _the service was being dropped in the city.

Still, I had to rely on hope…_this pipe dream to keep me strong, _in a time of cries and Armageddon in the Malton city streets. Securing a map; or brochure of the city on a table from about a month past on the nightstand, it appeared a group of shops caught my eye. Including the Ample Theater and Pawn Shop, _neighboring the Police Station, _it was my probably last chance to prepare myself as well as arm myself. I've decided to shed no more tears, _My parents, Lt. Maxwell, _and countless others lives lost in the hospital. With it; going to journey across the city to find this Pete's Pawn Shop onward into the war-_zone of the city._

I'd been a quiet day today; hardly any zeds prowling the streets like it'd been a few days back. With it; the hospital was on fire, and now probably going to collapse. It was sitting in the lawn chair, and writing, when I spotted the shop about a few buildings over an Gun-_shop. _My eyes nearly bogged out of my head, as I turned to the gun shop and decided to venture over there for weapons.

It was getting back, maybe spending an hour over there only running across a body or two, but already dead ones. I member entering the scattered shop, probably by those goons, _and _hardly nothing here. As luck would have it; I found a leather coat, and a regular handgun from a nearby store clerk in the ventilation shaft sticking out. His lower torso ripped from his body, as I retrieved the firearm. Thirteen in the chamber, but it was better than nothing in my own case. Virtually no food, or water, but only one magazine from the scarce 9mm bullets that was thrown across the shop, so I spent my time rum edging finding bullets. It was about dark, when I got back to the pub with the only light was the street lamps to guild my way through the deserted city, with the only audible thing was the moans. With it; despite to remembering to see the once livable city of hundreds, along with tourists, reduced to nothing but…cannibals, and survivors avoiding them on the run_. _So, for the sake of nothing, I'm heading to bed early right now its been about four hours since getting back, but I don't care, maybe I'll take a shower in the morning if the waters working.

October 16, 2005

_Bad news…_water stopped halfway through my shower, as I finished shampooing my hair. Luckily, I had plenty of water collected from the jugs I kept upstairs to wash the soap off my body. Wondering, about my venture further into the city, but with not wanting to be a sitting duck, I managed to head to the radio frequency channel and tapped the buttons, to only get *_static* _as before, and no calls to my phone. It was about mid-day noon, when I decided it was best I get going while there was still light outside. With it; I made my way to the door, with the little pack I managed to find in the gun shop on my shoulders, as I found my way to the double doors, with the last of the food gone, and nothing further from this place. With the dust gathering under my feet as I walked; I turned the lights off in the pub, and left a note on the counter whom found this place was a generator at the lower cellar. With two separate grids; I managed to flip the main one off line to save fuel, but as for the other one, Left it on just in case.

Taking one last look around the empty bar, that only held miserable memories, and Lt. Maxwell's influence on his life, I fumbled for the switch, as I membered opening the door as the light streamed into the dark room, as I closed my eyes and headed out the door. With both doors shut behind me; I ventured on the empty streets of Malton, while litter and blood stains could be spotted as I went. With little influence of life anywhere in sight, I wandered alone, and worried, "_was I the only person left, couldn't be!_" With that; I made my way onto an outlet ally, bypassing a group of zeds at a fountain monument, as I crept along the back, with ball bat in hand. To save bullets, and with my terrible aim, which was improving, I'd decided to save it for emergencies.

Stumbling onto the next street, a road in a mid-section part of town, as the office buildings overhead towered above, vehicles could be seen stopped in the mist of the section. With no body or blood in sight; just…_empty _space of vehicles' blocking the four lane intersection. It was making a left turn of the cluttered section, I then found myself nearing the _Petes _Pawn shop, and appeared to be un-touched by those goons. It was making my way to the front, I realized they'd been here, but unable to get in from the metal steel bars and mesh inside. From the graffiti style like the jackets they wore, or the others he'd membered seeing had that same blue on the back of their own coats. It was only marked with a bold "**X**" meaning probably unable to get through and with the side entrance blocked, I invest aged the door and it wouldn't budge. I then; decided to climb onto the loose brinks of the front part of the building poking out, beside the concrete walls and metal door. With or _what luck _would have it; I edged my way to the top of the wall and climbed over and under the barbwire, but loosing my leather jacket in the process.

Considering it a loss, I found myself in the secluded back alleyway, with both exits / entrances being barricaded with walls or thick lumber, I found only a single metal door to the side of the building hid by a large dumpster. With the small window to the side of the door, board up from the inside, and the outside metal bars protecting the outside, I only hoped the door was unlocked. TO my surprise it wasn't, but _kicking the placemat, _I found a small key. I scored luckily, making my way inside the cramped kitchen probably the joined building like the pub. Most of the buildings were like that, well the old ones anyway. It appears I'm alone…._I ran through the two floors of the building, _but couldn't gain access to any other floor. With the doors refusing to budge and my way to the next stairwell on the way to the third floor blocked, it appeared I wasn't going to get through. So, I've made myself cosy in the kitchen, with the door locked behind me, I found the table like a desk at school, and propping my head and giving a slight yawn, I begin to drift to _Sleep…_

[_You take note the skit, pencil marks from an pencil being scraped on the entry as you, decided to wait to the read the next section….]_

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~_Author Note_~

I've found people from all over liking this story a whole lot more than the rest, and finally finished a next chapter. YA! ME!!! JK…_But seriously, _please review my stories, it makes me get the itch to write more on this one. But, likewise, I'll probably post Oct. 17, 18 & 19 later on…

-Peace all….


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